Haunted
by CrossoverQueen94
Summary: Melinda meets a family from Ohio who've come to check out Rockland Univsersity, and there's only one problem. They've got a ghost who insists that they're happy the way they are. But are they? Read & Review?
1. Haunted

_**Haunted**_

Melinda shook her head and laughed, reaching out to tickle her son energetically. "You're such a silly boy! Of course there's no such thing as werewolves?"

Aiden giggled happily, shying away from his mother's fingers. She let him go, and he flopped down on the park bench beside her, looking thoughtful. "But how do you _know_?" he asked seriously after he'd caught his breath. "Have you ever seen one? No. But you haven't seen a Shiny either, and _they_ exist."

Melinda shook her head, exasperated. "That's different and you know it."

Aiden sighed. "Can I at least make believe that there are werewolves? I bet it'd be really cool to know a werewolf."

"Of course you can—" She looked over at Aiden and paused. "—pretend."

Her attention was elsewhere, on a family walking across the grass, happily chattering about nothing. Aiden frowned and turned around, his eyes instantly locking on the family too. He shook his head. "It's almost like they know she's there," he commented, looking back at his mother seriously. "They don't, do they?"

The family, a husband and wife and son, were strolling through Grandview Park and enjoying the good weather. The father, a tall, burly man with a friendly expression chuckled at something his well-dressed son said and patted him on the shoulder as Melinda watched them. His hand passed through his wife's body while doing so.

"No, Aiden," she said with a sad smile. "They don't know she's there."

The woman, a thirty-something blonde with vivid blue eyes, was dressed in a hospital gown and pyjama bottoms covered in little puppies. She looked lovingly at her family, smiling and laughing with them, keeping close to them. Though she looked happy, her cheeks were sunken and she had dark circles under her eyes; Melinda guessed that she once was beautiful, but whatever she had died from had robbed her of her good-looks.

Out of nowhere, the ghost turned away from her family and fixed Melinda with an icy stare, the laughter and love draining from her face, leaving her pale and haunted looking. She disappeared from her husband's side and was suddenly just a foot from Melinda, her fists clenched at her sides.

"_Please, leave us alone,_" the ghost whispered; her voice was soft and raspy, but still held some of its former musicality. "_Please. We're happy._"

Melinda blinked as the ghost disappeared again, turning to Aiden, who shrugged. "They look pretty happy to me," he said, his eyes once again locking onto the father and son as they made their way across the grass. Melinda shook her head.

"To me, too," she agreed, tilting her head to the side in contemplation. "But looks can be deceiving." She turned to her son and smiled. "Why don't you go play, while I go talk to them?"

Aiden shrugged and stood up, and while walking towards the playground, grumbled, "Whatever. As long as I can pretend the other kids are werewolves." His mother shook her head, wondering if she should be concerned about his fascination with underworld creatures.

Turning her attention back to the ghost's family, Melinda realised that they had been walking faster than she had thought, and were already on the other side of the park. Her instinct was to run after them and ask them about their ghost, but one glance in Aiden's direction made her drop that idea. Maybe the ghost was right, anyway; maybe they _were_ happy. If there was anything she _didn't_ need right now, it was an extra ghost on her hands who didn't want or need her help. After all, Eli's parents were perfectly happy staying on Earth until he could join them in the Light— perhaps this woman was just doing the same.

* * *

"Remind me again why we're here?" Kurt sighed loudly, sticking his hands in his pockets and tensing his shoulders. Not that Grandview wasn't wonderful, but he really _didn't _need to be here; he'd applied to Juilliard. He didn't _want_ to see other colleges. As soon as he got his acceptance letter, it'd be good-bye Lima, hello New York City. _Grandview_ didn't fit into his perfectly planned out future.

"You need other options, Kurt, in case you don't get in to Juilliard," Burt said for what seemed like the umpteenth time, his mind seemingly already made up. "Besides, wouldn't you rather upgrade from Lima to a place like this— busy and populated, but not _overwhelming_— instead of jumping right into New York City?"

Kurt groaned. "Absolutely _not_," he said, shaking his head and taking a moment to look both ways before taking his father's elbow and leading him across the quiet street. "I _belong_ in New York City. I'm going to be on Broadway one day, just you wait and see. I don't need '_other options_'; I've got my life laid out in front of me."

Burt rolled his eyes, muttering, "I thought teenagers were supposed to love road trips."

Kurt chuckled and shook his head, taking out the pamphlet they had gotten online from Rockland University's website and handing it to his father. "I'm not enjoying myself because you wouldn't let Mercedes come along. If you had, we'd be off making noise somewhere, and you could check out the University all you wanted." He shook his head as Burt checked the address on the pamphlet, looking up at a street sign.

"I told you; this is a man's trip. It wouldn't do to have you bring Mercedes with us."

"You brought Carole!"

"That's different."

"No, that's hypocritical. The only thing that's different is that you are sleeping together, whilst Mer and I are not."

"Kurt!"

"Just saying."

The pair continued to bicker as they made their way to the main building of the University, as an amused ghost trailed behind them, shaking her head. "_That's my boy,_" she whispered reaching out to stroke Kurt's hair lovingly. Kurt ran a hand through his hair, straightening it into place again from where it had been mussed by the wind. He shook his head, and then looked straight at his mother. He smiled.


	2. Aware

_**Aware**_

Melinda looked at Eli as if he'd grown another head. Certainly, he wasn't suggesting...?

"It's not stalking!" he insisted after seeing her face, waving his arms about rather ridiculously to retract his previous statement. "It's karaoke night, and _everyone_'s invited. All of the future students and their parents will be there— I just thought we could go so that you could get a second look at your ghost." He looked down at his feet, digging his toe absently into her living room carpet. "Plus, I kind of wanted to try out the new machine..."

Melinda laughed, scooping up an armful of Aiden's toys and putting them in a neat pile that he would later be _encouraged_ to take back up to his room. "So, this has nothing to do with a ghost! You just want to sing _Born to be Wild_ again, and don't want to go alone," she chided, playfully pushing her friend's shoulder with an open palm.

Eli shrugged sheepishly. "Well... two birds, one stone, right?" He held his head high once more and stared Melinda down. "You know, that ghost could be potentially harmful, and if she travels with the kid, we might never see them again," he reminded her. "Wasn't that what you were worried about?"

"Alright, but if you think you're going to get me to sing, you've got another thing coming."

Eli did an exaggerated air-punch, jumping up and down like a spoiled child. "Yeah!" he said excitedly, resisting the urge to hug Melinda, who rolled her eyes and went back to her cleaning of the living room. "And I will totally have you rocking out by the end of the night. I just know it."

"If you say so," Melinda said, picking up a cushion off the floor and tossing it onto the couch. "But I don't think I'll have time when I'm dealing with the ghost. She seemed like a _bit_ of a handful."

_That_ was the understatement of the century.

* * *

"Dad, this is so lame. Can't we go back to the hotel now?" Kurt begged, looking around at the crowd of freshmen and future applicants who filled the packed bar (which was unfortunately not serving alcohol, due to the amount of minors).

Burt laughed and Carole shook her head in amusement, sipping her ice tea. "Go on, son, mingle with the other kids. Maybe you'll make a friend," Burt suggested, giving his son a nudge towards the swarm of people in the centre of the room. "I thought you'd love it here. Why haven't you signed up to do a song yet?"

"You think I want to sing _karaoke_? Are you insane? That system is not up to par; it will _hardly _showcase my talent." He fixed his hair delicately, checking his reflection in his handy pocket-mirror before snapping it closed and shoving it back into his pocket. "No _thank_ you."

Burt rolled his eyes, pointing towards the makeshift stage. "Go sign up."

Kurt groaned and rolled his eyes right back, glaring his father down. He was the first to crack, however, and stood up with an undignified _humph_. "I dislike you very much, as of now," he said, his tone icy as he stared at his father. He turned on his heel and stalked unhappily towards the stage, grabbing the pen and neatly penning his name on the next available line along with a song choice from his repertoire that wouldn't be _too _mangled by the awful speaker quality.

"Happy now?" he asked his father as he returned to their table, gracefully sitting himself down in the chair he had been previously occupying and crossing one leg over the other.

"Surprisingly, yes," Burt laughed, slinging an arm around his girlfriend and smiling at his son. "Oh, brighten up. You'll be graduating in a couple months, and then you'll be free of me. Isn't that what you're always going on about?" There was a hurt quality to the way he said it, and Kurt frowned at his father.

"No, dad, that's not it at all. I can't wait to be out of Ohio— it has absolutely nothing to do with you. I love you. You're my dad. That's never going to change." Burt smiled and reached across the table to ruffle his son's hair affectionately, and Kurt let out another undignified squeak, pulling out his mirror once more to assess the damage.

"Dad!" he exclaimed, trying to comb through his hair with his fingers so that it once again would lay flat. Burt chuckled.

"_Up next, folks, we have Kurt, who'll be singing _Time After Time,_ an old favourite,_" the DJ announced, and Burt clapped his son on the back.

"Go on, kiddo."

Kurt, still flustered over his hair, made his way onto the stage and picked up the mic.

* * *

"So, what's this kid look like?" Eli asked, downing the better half of a root beer in one gulp. He'd already sung twice, once with _Born to be Wild_ and again with _Eye of the Tiger_.

"He was short-ish, straight brown hair, dressed like he was wealthy and kind of eccentric— sort of like he'd bought that stuff people wear on the runway that you never expect people to wear in real life." Eli looked around the crowded room at the group of dancing teenagers and young adults, as well as the masses of parents that lined the walls and sat at tables.

"Well, I don't see anyone who matches that description." He took another huge gulp of his drink, emptying the glass. "Want another?" he asked, gesturing to her own nearly-empty Pepsi.

"Sure," Melinda agreed, drinking the last of her glass's contents and then pushing to towards him. Eli took her glass and his and went back to the bar for refills. She shook her head and looked up when a new singer took the mic. She frowned, instantly spotting the ghost standing just beside him, lovingly gazing at her son.

"_Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick, and think of you. Caught up in circles confusion—_"

Melinda's eyebrows shot up when she heard the kid sing— even with the rather tinny background music, his voice penetrated the din of the bar and hung in the air so that people turned to listen to him. He had a beautiful, high voice; his hitting of the notes a flawless recreation of the original by Cindi Lauper, with the exception of an extra run or two that showcased his incredible talent.

"_Flashback— warm nights, almost left behind suitcases of memories, time after..._"

Eli returned to their table, two full glasses in hand and staring at the kid on the stage. "Man, that kid can sing!" he said, enthusiastically bobbing his head to the tune. Melinda frowned and pointed to the singer.

"That's him, from the park."

Eli turned back to the stage and examined the well-dressed countertenor. "And is she here?" he asked, dropping his voice to a lower, more serious tone. Melinda nodded, her eyes focussed on the ghost's face.

"Yeah, she's here; she's beside him, watching him sing."

"_Then you say, 'go slow.' I fall behind; the second hand unwinds,_" he sang, then he turned to his mother and began to chorus. "_If you're lost, you can look and you will find me, time after time._" Melinda's eyes widened, and so did Eli's. "_If you fall I will catch you, I'll be waiting— time after time._"

"She's singing with him," he said, his finely tuned ears picking up on her ghostly melody joining her son's for the well-known chorus.

"And he's singing with her," Melinda said, watching as the teenager's eyes focussed on something no one but he and Melinda could see, if he could see her at all. "He's _looking _at her, Eli."

"That's impossible!"

"Look at him, Eli. He knows she's there."

Eli watched at the fashionable teen looked at seemingly nothing, swaying as he sang along to the tinny-sounding track. He smiled and reached out the hand that was not holding onto the microphone, again, seemingly to nothing, as part of a stage act. The crowd ate it up, swaying with him and pairing up to dance in couples.

"He'd holding her hand," Melinda whispered, her voice revealing how stunned she was. Eli took a sharp intake of breath. That kid was singing to his dead mother, and he _knew she was listening_. He _knew she was there_.

Eli shook his head, taking a drink from his glass to quench his now dry-feeling tongue.

"_If you're lost, you can look and you will find me, time after time..._"


	3. Determined

_**Determined**_

"Your son has a beautiful voice."

Burt Hummel jumped at the voice above his shoulder. Carole was in line to get them another round of drinks, and Kurt was on his third musical number, after the crowd had started begging for an encore. He looked at the beautiful woman standing in front of him, smiling slightly.

"Thanks, I know." He smiled fondly in his son's direction as Kurt belted out _yet another _girl's song. "He gets that from his mother."

"You and your wife must be very proud," Melinda said, trying to keep the conversation going. She looked pointedly over her shoulder at the woman he had been sitting with. Burt looked over his shoulder too, glancing at Carole before shaking his head.

"Carole isn't my wife," he pointed out, blinking in surprise, "She's my girlfriend. My wife... passed away a long time ago." Melinda put on her sympathetic face, putting a hand to her chest.

"I am so sorry," she gushed, "I just assumed—" Burt waved a hand to stop her, shaking his head.

"That's alright. No harm done."

"I'm Melinda Gordon, by the way," Melinda introduced herself, offering Burt her hand. He shook it hesitantly, glancing back at the stage where Kurt was singing.

"Burt Hummel. Would you, er, like to sit down?" he asked awkwardly, gesturing to one of the four empty seats at his table. Melinda smiled and nodded, taking a seat beside him.

"Thanks. Is your son applying to Rockland U?"

Burt sighed dramatically. "If only. I've been trying to get him to see that there are other options besides Juilliard, but when it comes to Kurt..." He sighed again, shaking his head. "When the kid wants something, he goes for it. And he usually gets his way, too... I just want him to have a fall-back, y'know?"

Melinda nodded quickly. "Absolutely. If you do convince him to apply, I'm sure he'll get in. Rockland is always looking for the talented." She smiled in Kurt's direction, avoiding the eyes of the ghost beside him. "And he is _such_ a good singer. If my son had a gift like that, I'd be pounding down the doors of ever university there was and demand they listen to him." She sighed wistfully. "You know, Rockland is a great school."

"I've heard great things about it," Burt commented, drumming his fingers along the tabletop to the beat of Kurt's song.

"Well, I know for a fact that the teachers are _wonderful_," Melinda enthused, her voice peppy and upbeat. "A friend of mine works there, in the psych department."

Carole returned to the table just as Melinda was about to inquire (politely, of course) about Kurt's mother. She quietly cursed the bad timing, and externally smiled at the motherly-looking woman who was looking at her questioningly.

"Hi, you must be Carole," Melinda said smiling, "I'm Melinda." She offered Carole her hand, and Carole set down the two refilled glasses she had been holding in order to shake it. "I've been telling Burt here about Rockland U— if Kurt needs a fall-back, Grandview is definitely the place." She smiled again, forcing cheerfulness. "They already love him here, see?" She nodded towards the happy teenagers who were requesting songs for Kurt to sing, rather than getting up and doing so themselves.

"Yes, well," Carole said sitting down next to her boyfriend and coughing slightly. "Grandview seems like a beautiful town, from what we've seen of it. Definitely a place Kurt would be safe in."

"I completely agree."

Melinda talked easily with the couple for a while, waiting for the right time to bring up one of her many questions. _How long ago did Kurt's mother die? How did it affect him? How did he cope with the trauma? Had anything strange happened to them since then?_ There wasn't a lull in the conversation when any of them seemed appropriate.

Eventually, Kurt claimed his voice was hoarse and rejected any further song suggestions. He stepped off the stage and gave the microphone back to the DJ, who once again referred to the sign-up sheet to see whose turn it was to sing.

"_She wants to make me disappear_." Kurt froze, staring at the laughing woman sitting with his dad and Carole as his mother whispered in his ear. "_She wants to take me away from you, to tear us apart. Don't let her, baby._"

Kurt determinedly stomped back to the table, glaring Melinda down. "Oh, there you are, Kurt! We thought the crowd had swallowed you up!" Carole laughed, smiling up at her boyfriend's son fondly. He ignored her and turned to Melinda, who smiled hesitantly.

"Hello, Kurt. My name's Mel—"

"I _know _who you are," Kurt cut her off, "Leave us alone."

Melinda's smile faltered, and she looked towards the ghost. "_You've already done enough damage,_" the ghost hissed angrily, shaking his head.

"I don't understand," she said, looking between Kurt and his mother. "I just wanted to help you—"

"_We don't _need _your kind of help! I asked you to leave us alone. Why didn't you listen?_" The ghost vanished, leaving an angry Kurt and a very confused Burt and Carole.

"Just go," Kurt said, his voice deeper than it usually was, holding an air of distain.

"Kurt!" Burt said indignantly, "That is no way to talk to anybody!" He turned to Melinda. "I am so sorry. I don't know what's gotten into him." His gaze returned to Kurt. "What _has_ gotten into you?"

"Melinda was just telling us about Rockland," Carole said quietly, her voice sounding puzzled as she looked behind Kurt and Melinda, who were staring daggers at each other. "Where are your manners, Kurt? She was just being polite."

"I don't _want_ to go to Rockland. I don't want to be here any longer than I have to. And I'm sure as _hell _not coming back." He looked towards his father, his eyes burning with unshed tears. "Can we leave, please? I'm not feeling well."

Burt frowned but nodded, finishing his drink and standing up. Kurt started walking towards the door without waiting for an answer, his shoulders hunched as if he were in pain. Burt looked curiously after him. "I am so, so sorry about him," he apologised. "He's not usually like that. He must _really_ be feeling sick, poor little guy."

"Oh, that's alright," Melinda said, looking down at her watch. "Is that the time? Gee, I better get going myself." She gathered up her purse, and smiled. The three adults left the bar together, chatting about nothing in particular. When they got outside, Kurt was waiting at the curb, sitting on the edge with his arms around his knees.

"Kurt? What are you doing down there?"

Kurt jumped up, startled. "Waiting for you," he said after a moment, recovering smoothly. It was dark enough out that someone less observant than Melinda might not have noticed the little red rings under his eyes— he'd been crying. "Come on, let's go."

"Good-bye, Melinda. It's been so nice to meet you," Carole said, offering her a small smile.

"If you need a tour of the city, or just someone to talk to while you're here..." Melinda said, digging around in her purse and pulling out a business card for the store. "...I'd be happy to hear from you."

Carole accepted the card and nodded, tucking it into her pocket. "Absolutely."

They parted ways, and Melinda frowned silently as she watched them go. She had no idea what she had gotten herself into, but she was determined to finish what she started, if she could. And that meant comforting the family, telling them (and convincing them) of her gift, and crossing over Mrs. Hummel— and all before they left to go back to Ohio.

Melinda sighed. Her job was _never _easy.


	4. Sympathetic

_**Sympathetic**_

Melinda wasn't really expecting anything to happen when she'd given Carole her card. She figured she'd have to find a way to _accidently_ bump into the family again, but instead, the answer to her current situation fell right into her lap— almost quite literally.

The shop was bright and sunny the next morning when she opened, the curtains over the windows flung wide to let the sunlight in. Dust hung in the air in a thin sheet, remnants of the new box of antiques she was unloading behind the counter. Around noon, after unpacking most of the boxes old Mr. Kinney had left for her, she went around back to hide some of the more valuable items to post for bid on eBay. There were a couple of trinkets she was sure that Mr. Kinney hadn't known the real value of. She put them into a box in the back and then hurried back out front when she heard the familiar tinkle of the door's ancient bell.

As Melinda rounded the corner, she was met with an armful of Carole; the two bumped into each other and nearly fell. She found herself grinning as Carole profusely apologised for the collision, beckoning her back around to the front of the store.

"It's alright," Melinda assured her, happy to see the woman again. "Why don't I close up for an hour so we can go to lunch? Have you been to_ Fernando's _yet? It's fantastic."

"I— well— alright. I just thought I'd stop by to say hello while Burt and Kurt were touring Rockland U, but lunch sounds wonderful right about now," Carole agreed quietly, seeming a little shy as she adjusted the way the strap of her purse fell across her shoulder. "Is _Fernando's_ far from here?"

"Not at all. It's just around the corner."

Melinda posted her _Out for Lunch_ sign in the doorway of the store and locked the door behind her as the two women went to lunch. _Fernando's_ was busy, as per usual, but they were lucky enough to get a table outside on the patio to be able to enjoy the good weather.

"My husband used to take me here when we were teenagers," Melinda told Carole after they'd both perused the menu and given their orders to the young, fresh-faced waiter. "It was right smack dab in between where both our houses were, so before he got a car, we'd both walk and meet in the middle."

Carole chuckled. "My first husband and I had a similar deal back when we were first dating. Nothing in Lima is too far to walk to, but we'd always go to this ice cream place two blocks away from my parent's house called _The Ice Box_. It was probably the lamest place ever, but it ended up being where he proposed."

"That's so sweet," Melinda said with a smile, easily able to imagine a young Carole being wooed in the cheesiest ice cream parlour in Ohio. She seemed like an old-fashioned kind of girl. "Do you have kids?" she asked, moving the topic to one where she could segue into the subjects she'd been dying to discuss.

"My son Finn is almost eighteen now," Carole confessed, a far-off look in her eye as she bent her head to sip at her ice-tea. "And Kurt— you met him last night— he's just about there to. Where does the time go, huh?"

"Speaking of Kurt," Melinda replied easily, an indulgent smile crossing her sharp features. "How is he feeling? He seemed rather upset last night."

Carole frowned, seemingly mulling over the question as she sipped at her ice-tea again. "He's fine, I guess," she said at length, holding back the answer she wouldn't give to a complete stranger. "He's always been a little touchy."

"Was it something I said?" Melinda inquired, trying not to look eager. "Because he started acting strange right after I was talking to his dad. At least, I think he was acting strange. Is that normal behaviour for him?"

"Heavens, no!" Carole looked horrified. "He was so rude to you. He's not like that once you get to know him— I'm sure it had nothing to do with you. He gets so emotional over the strangest things, sometimes. His father always mutters something about him being just like his mother in that respect, but I never met the woman, so I wouldn't know one way or the other."

The waiter returned with their orders and the pair dove into their food enthusiastically. A soft melody from the speakers by the door and the chatter of other patrons kept the silence at bay while they each began their meal, taking turns to sing praise about the chef.

"Kurt's mother," Melinda began again, bringing the conversation back to where it had been before the food arrived. "How long ago did she pass away? If you don't mind me asking, of course."

Carole swallowed her mouthful of chicken salad, picking up her napkin and dabbing lightly at the corners of her mouth while she shook her head. "I don't mind at all. Kurt was six, I believe, when she got sick—Burt never says what from, but I _have _been able to ascertain that it was something awfully taxing on the family. Cancer, maybe. I don't know. She didn't actually die until Kurt was almost eight, from what I gather."

"That's so awful," Melinda said sympathetically, putting down the forkful of pasta that had made it almost half-way to her mouth. "I can't even begin to imagine how hard that must have been on Kurt."

"And on Burt, too!" Carole agreed, scooping up more chicken onto her own fork before eating it, taking her time to chew and swallow before continuing. "I can't even begin to imagine how hard it was for him, working full-time and raising a kid he knew nothing about. He and Kurt weren't as close as they are now, when Kurt was younger. Burt told me once he was afraid Kurt was going a little crazy after Katie died, truth be told."

"Crazy?" Melinda asked, feigning only mild intrigue to keep Carole talking. "How so?"

"He was talkin' to himself all the time, claiming she was there and he was talkin' to his mom. I'm kind of glad my husband died when Finn was too little to remember him. He might still have a dead parent, but at least he doesn't have to deal with the memory of her death, y'know? Kurt was actually _there _the day his mother died."

"I have a six-year-old, and I can't even imagine him having to deal with a parent getting sick like that. They're just so vulnerable at that age, so impressionable." Melinda shook her head, turning her attention back to her food. "How are you doing, dealing with all this? It must be hard on you, too."

Carole chuckled again, sipping at her ice tea. "I'm alright. The whole family— me, Burt, Kurt, Finn— we're all a little damaged, but we stick together, and it makes it so much better, to have a support system like that. And I don't have to worry about who'll take care of Finn if something happens to me."

"If something _happens_ to you?" Melinda asked, genuinely concerned at how passively Carole had said that. She could even imagine leaving Aiden— she would probably wait to cross over herself if she died prematurely— and yet Carole seemed so okay with it, like it was commonplace for people to die without warning.

"Well, you know. I've been in a couple of rough patches lately. Like just a few weeks ago, I accidently drove Burt's truck right off the road. Don't know how the hell it happened; one minute I'm fine and on my way home from the hardware store with a box of bolts for Burt, the next, I'm upside down in a ditch. Crazy, huh?"

Melinda felt that tell-tale sinking feeling in her stomach as she listened, biting down on her plump lower lip to stop herself from asking when these kinds of accidents started happening. Right around the time she started seeing Burt was the answer she was praying for it _not_ to be, but she had a feeling her bad feeling would turn into a worse feeling sooner rather than later.

"Yeah, crazy," she agreed absently instead, quickly finishing up her lunch. "I've got to get back to the store. How long are you in town for? We should get together again, maybe with Burt and Kurt next time?"

"We're here all week," Carole answered quickly, finishing her own meal and taking out the money for her half of the bill. "I'm sure Burt would love to see a friendly face again. You are so wonderful. I'm so glad we ran into each other last night."

"Me, too."

They paid their respective halves of the bill and walked back to the store together saying good-bye at the door as Carole turned and went off towards the park. Melinda watched her go, dread slowly peeling back the layers of her conviction like an onion. She needed to help this woman before the ghost of Katie Hummel decided to kill her. Because that car accident? Probably wasn't an accident.

For someone who claimed to be so happy, Katie was sure stirring up a lot of trouble. And Melinda was going to get to the bottom of it.


End file.
